


If It's All the Same to You

by LateStarter58



Series: Sarah's Smutty Notebook [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, F/M, Hulk Smash (Marvel), Stark Tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: Ever wondered what was happening just before the Avengers arrived back at Stark Tower...?





	If It's All the Same to You

**Author's Note:**

> Thisis sort of the ‘origin-myth’ for my particular Loki, the one who thought he’d see what all the fuss was about Midgardian women post-‘Thor’, and later decided they were a route to some kind of redemption…

Every generation has its war stories, right? My Nana told me hers: a bomb falling on the house next door and her grabbing my uncle, who was just a tiny baby then, and running to her Mum’s house in the middle of the night. My Dad had his – about being a student in the sixties and getting beaten up on demos by the police. In July 2007 I was working for the BMA in Tavistock Square. As one of the first-aid team I helped the docs look after the victims from the bus that blew up almost outside the front door…

I thought that was MY story. And now I have another one.

Not sure who to tell this one to, mind. Apart from you guys, that is…

 

_Well, this is the first day to end all first days…_

This wasn’t exactly what I expected when I got up this morning. I was nervous, of course. My first day working at Stark Industries: scary. Head-hunted from the UK, I was very flattered and not a little puzzled but Miss Potts had assured me that I was the woman they needed. I wasn’t aware my skills were that amazing, but nevertheless they had got me a work visa, an apartment, even paid my relocation expenses...

But on my first morning at my new desk all hell had broken loose in New York. I had expected noise, crowds, wise-ass remarks, even the occasional mugger, but, _seriously?_ _Alien invasion_? Well, it is _New York…_ but even so! At first there was some excitement, but when those weird-looking creatures on flying jet skis appeared and started shooting their ray-guns and stuff… Well, a lot of my new colleagues seem to disappear suddenly. All day there had been explosions, smoke and vile stenches and when the noise became really loud and uncomfortably close I got so scared I hid in the stationery cupboard.

Finally, after a couple of uncomfortable hours on the hard floor my natural curiosity took over – I suffer from the cat-killing type – and I ventured out. The entire floor was deserted. I suppose I was too new to think of, too new to remember…

_I have to see what is happening. I’ll go up high; get an overview._

I found a stairwell, and headed up, assuming it would eventually take me to the roof. I’d climbed a few flights when

_What the fuck was that?_

I cowered, wishing I had stayed put. A great roar had echoed through the building, extremely loud and frightening, followed by bone-shaking bangs and crashes. Then silence from above. Still the same whining, smashing, sci-fi sounds from outside. But from within the tower, all quiet.

Some of the electrical systems in the building were still working, some not. The emergency lights were on everywhere, so no need to stumble around in the dark at least. I tried a few doors once the stairs ran out, hoping one would lead to the roof, but they were all either locked or just led to windowless rooms or closets. The last one, right at the end of the corridor, was a big shiny tooled metal door marked ‘Private’.

I hesitated: would I get the sack if discovered? Under the circumstances I thought not. I could always say that as a trained first-aider I was simply checking for casualties… Which I think was in my mind. I find it hard to remember my thoughts; just my emotions remain clear from that day. I turned the handle – progress – then pushed on its considerable weight and this time: success!

I was stunned by the devastation it revealed.

A cold wind was blowing around inside the huge room: several of the floor-to-ceiling windows were gone. Rubble, glass and wreckage was strewn everywhere. I could see what looked like the remains of high-end IT equipment in a thousand pieces scattered over the seating in a sunken area in the centre. Voile curtains were wafting in the chilly breeze.

I took a few tentative steps from the doorway, guessing that this had to be Tony Stark’s penthouse office. What was left of the décor was stylish and expensive. I scanned the space: to my right there was a well-stocked bar, miraculously undamaged compared to everything else I could see.

_I could really use a drink_

As I made my way towards it, clambering over and between the lumps of metal and concrete I heard an odd noise: it sounded like the air in a child’s balloon being slowly let out. I turned my head and saw a man lying on the floor. Well, _in the floor_ would be more accurate. It looked as though he had been smashed into it from a great height. That was where the sound had come from. I couldn’t imagine how he was alive, but apparently he was. I went over there at once, first-aider hat on, trying to assess his injuries. His eyes were open but glazed-over, but he was at least breathing; he looked dazed, stunned even, but there were no obvious fractures. He was pale and cool to the touch, but his pulse was strong and steady, so no sign of internal bleeding. His face – his very handsome face – was peppered with little cuts and marks, but apart from that, nothing.

I was marvelling at this when he came out of his stupor all of a sudden and grabbed my arm.

Really hard.

‘Ow!’

‘Who are you?’

I tried, pitifully unsuccessfully, to pull my arm away. He had a vice-like grip on it. I was terrified, and he was hurting me. Now I took a second look and could see he was dressed very oddly and I began to think he might be connected to the space invaders or whatever they were.

‘I-I-I-I’m Sarah. I work here. I was just trying to see if you needed help.’ I tried to make him understand I wanted him to let go of me.

He released my arm without an apology and looked at me with such intensity I felt a blush rising up.

I tried to help him sit up but he did so by himself, as if he was able to read my mind. His arms moved like lightening once again, this time catching me behind my neck and pulling my face down to meet his. His lips were on mine, crushing and I was unable to resist.

_Who is he? What is he?_

The blood surged to my core. He was the most sexually attractive person I had ever seen, and the strange circumstances seemed unimportant. Furthermore, they seemed to vanish, our surroundings apparently evaporating. It’s a good thing he was mostly uninjured because I was soon scrabbling at his waist, trying to find a way inside the peculiar clothing he had on.

‘Allow me.’

I drew back and he ripped open what seemed to be a leather coat and rapidly unlaced his trousers. Once he had, my hand was there with something akin to his speed and he gasped loudly as I slid my fingers around him; so did I: man or alien, he was _seriously_ well-endowed. My dress was up around my waist and he tore – yes, he _tore_ – my knickers off. I barely noticed.

I should point out that this is not me, by the way; this sort of thing, I mean. I’m no blushing virgin, but I don’t fuck people I don’t even know. On the strength of a two-minute acquaintance. Without even knowing their name… _In a war zone._

But this wasn’t a normal sort of a day, was it?

He was still lying there, in the pit in the floor into which he’d been shoved by someone or something. He still seemed somewhat dazed; he was covered in bruises and dust and I had no idea who he was or what had been his part in all this. I just knew that I had to have him, and, apparently, he had to have me too, if the state of him was anything to go by. Before I knew it I was on him, and he was in me. And oh it was glorious!

He had big hands and they seemed to be everywhere, thanks to his long arms. He moaned a lot; some of it was pain, I think. His back was hurting him, I could tell that much. But mostly it was not. He had a power and strength despite his battered appearance and a grace which was unaffected by the chaos we were in the midst of… I was transported by his body and his very presence. It was sexy, yes, but strangely romantic, as if Mr Darcy had been made flesh and materialised in the most unlikely of places. Our eyes met and our gazes stayed locked throughout, at least for as long as I could keep my eyes from rolling back because _oh my, he was huge._ And I was screaming by the end, and that was definitely not fear. It didn’t take long; the circumstances, the state of us both… but I can tell you one thing: given half a chance I’d do it again. Anytime, anywhere.

Best orgasm EVER.

But it turned out to be a fleeting moment of pleasure in a day from hell. I had just begun to regain my wits when his head turned towards the empty window frames and his jaw tightened.

‘Someone is coming. You had better leave, darling.’

I disengaged myself with reluctance and bent to kiss his mouth. He lifted himself up painfully and kissed me back, passionately. I wanted to stay, but he appeared genuinely afraid, so I quickly made my way to the door. I hid behind it and listened. There was the sound of feet landing heavily on the floor: one impact shook the building. I could hear my mystery lover dragging himself across the floor; then he spoke, presumably to whoever it was who had arrived.

‘If it’s all the same to you, I’ll have that drink now.’


End file.
